Elevated Fear

Oh, no! My front door Az.

Really?
It’s on the 7th floor?
I AM going to have to
walk through THAT door…

And get into that box!
that vertical trap
and hold my breath
when I hear that door snap

One time I got stuck
right between floors
I never do trust
those elevator doors

It took far too long
for rescue to come
I feared I would die
what a way to succumb

I wasn’t alone
thank God for that
still, I found little comfort
as I sat on the mat

Is there enough oxygen
for the two of us?
(but he was my boss
and I tried not to fuss)

On another occasion
about a dozen folks
crowded together
we tried to make jokes

I cried out loud
“I cannot DO THIS!”
what choice did I have?
I heard “Calm down Miss!”

My Elevator Anxiety
may have another source
yes, Mom chose a closet
and showed no remorse

because I’d been “bad”
she locked me in
(the sentence I served
for some “terrible sin”)

It was dark inside there
just some light through a crack
the hanging clothes
pushed down on my back

I stumbled on shoes
while I begged to come out
it would feel like hours
to a kid, no doubt

It’s amazing to me
that I’m able to fly
not that I like it…
in that tube in the sky

But it’s not the same
as an Elevator space
Some memories
are hard to erase

OH, yes, I am grateful
to live on FIRST FLOOR
so that I can WALK
to my own front door!

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